A Close Encounter of the Third Kind
by Innocent Lamb
Summary: An All New X-Men/Wolverine and the X-Men side story. After a conversation with Kitty, Rachel comes face-to-face with her teenage parents.
1. Chapter 1 - Kitty

**This is my second All New X-Men/Wolverine and the X-Men based fanfiction, this time including Rachel Grey and Kitty Pryde as well as past!Scott and Jean.**

**Enjoy!**

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"How did it go?" Rachel asked, barely glancing up from the documents arranged messily in front of her as Kitty slipped into their room. The brunette made a bee-line for the spare bed that had been set up for her and promptly collapsed, paying no mind to the mess of clothes and paperwork that were strewn all over it. Rachel allowed herself a private smile. The neat and professional front her friend put up around the students had been stripped away at the door, leaving behind a version of Kitty that stirred up fond memories of the past.

"I think she got the message. I mean, she hugged me. That's a good sign, right? But she also cried... I never thought I'd have to lecture a young Jean Grey about using her telepathy..." Kitty mused thoughtfully, picking at her pillow as if it held all the answers. "Being a teacher is hard."

"She can't be as bad as Quentin. Look at all this paper! I have to write a _report_ on the damage he did to the Danger Room, then go call Alana's parents about what he did to her hair," Rachel pulled a face, sighing at the amount of work she still had to do. "Logan made the whole thing sound easier than it is."

"You're telling me. Remind me why I volunteered to play professor to the very first X-Men? I thought Bobby would be the handful, but man, your parents..."

Rachel laughed, lifting up her stack of papers and waving them enticingly at Kitty. "Swap you?"

"No way. Touch me with those and I'll phase through this bed."

Rachel rolled her eyes, sticking the end of her pen in her mouth as she reluctantly returned to her work.

"Really though... Why _don't_ you talk to Jean? Or Scott?"

"We agreed that I wouldn't confuse things further," Rachel answered automatically, not looking up.

Now it was Kitty's turn to roll her eyes. "She already knows who you are, thanks to Hank. My job would be a lot easier if he hadn't showed her half that stuff. You could help her with it. And Scott could probably use someone to talk to."

Rachel groaned, rolling onto her stomach to level her gaze at Kitty. "You won't do my report for me, but you want me to do half of _your_ job?

"Come onnnn. You know you want to," Kitty waggled her eyebrows persuasively. "You could shape them into parents who wouldn't set a curfew..."

Rachel snorted. "Because _that_ was my main complaint about my childhood. Besides, they're not even _my_ parents."

"So?"

"So I don't want to have to go through all those awkward introductions again."

"Jean already knows who you are, I just said that. And she's probably told Scott by now. Who are you trying to convince here, Ray? You or me? Not to mention... You could be stopping that future of yours from happening here, too."

Rachel grimaced, point taken. "Fine. I'll think about it."

"Good. What do you think I should wear for my date with Bobby?"

"Kitty!" Rachel protested. "I am not having this conversation with you again."

"But that's what roommates are fooooor," ShadowCat whined, pouting stubbornly and making puppy dog eyes at her friend.

"Funny, yesterday you said they were for doing each other's laundry."

"But Rachel..."

"Don't make me telekinetically sew your lips closed."

"You suck. I should have bunked with Jean. Or better yet, made her bunk with you," Kitty grinned wickedly, as if the thought had just struck her.

"And Logan says I'm the cruel one."


	2. Chapter 2 - Jean

Rachel had been on her way to meet Psylocke for a bout in the Danger Room when she bumped – well, ran down may be more accurate – into her mother. If anyone asked, the reason she hadn't seen her coming was because she had been telepathically checking on Quire, telekinetically polishing her boots as they hovered behind her, and cursing under her breath about her students' inability to think about something other than sex for any significant stretch of time. Whoever said teaching was an easy job clearly hadn't visited a mutant school in some time.

The shock of it had knocked the young Jean Grey, who had also been letting her mind wander, to the floor. Rachel's boots hit the timber with a relatively loud bang and Quentin had been on the receiving end of a nasty psychic jab – which he doubtlessly deserved anyway – but the other X-Man managed to remain on her feet. However, she was instantly in chastise mode, not realising who it was that she had just bowled over, and pointedly neglecting the fact that she had been just as much as fault.

"If you don't learn to watch where you're going, one day you'll walk into a brood hive. And they won't stop to help you up before attacking you," Rachel heaved an irritated sigh, hauling Jean to her feet. That was when she got her first good look at her.

The girl was flustered, quickly turning pink and brushing a hand through her vibrant red hair. "S-sorry. I should have been paying more attention I just—"

She broke off mid-sentence to stare at Rachel.

Rachel stared back.

"You're..." Jean stammered. Rachel could feel her mother's mind reeling, grappling frantically with the new knowledge she had just been gifted, trying to find the name to go with the face. As the seconds ticked by, she grew increasingly desperate, scrabbling erratically through her mind.

Rachel tried not to feel offended as she supplied her name. "Rachel."

"Right. Marvel Girl. You stole my name."

Rachel felt her jaw go slack in astonishment. _Stole her name?_ _Stole?!_ Her mind spluttered incompetently, struggling to come up with a way to respond to such a blatantly insulting jibe. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but suddenly her mother wasn't the responsible, powerful, well-loved mutant she had known. It was extremely off-putting, and Rachel instantly understood the nervous, don't-know-how-to-handle-this vibes she had been getting since the first X-Men had arrived.

Before Rachel has regained her senses enough to decide on an appropriate response – because teachers couldn't just spurt out the first thing that came to mind, apparently, even when they were dealing with their own mothers – Jean's eyes widened even further.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't realise. Hank showed me so many things and... You're my daughter, right? Well..." she gave the other redhead a once over, clearly trying to judge her age, "Kind of, anyway."

Rachel found her eyes narrowing somewhat sceptically. Her mother's attitude had been a shock, and she had to remind herself that Henry had exposed her to all his memories of her life – up until now – and that a thing like that would take a not-insignificant toll on a person's psychological wellbeing.

"That's right. I'm from another universe where you and Scott are my parents," she explained briefly, not wanting to overcomplicate the already complex nature of their relationship.

"Am I... alive?" Jean asked hesitantly, biting her lip. "In your universe?"

"No."

Jean's face fell a thousand stories. "Oh."

"Sorry." Rachel didn't know what else to say, but the distressed expression on her mother's face and the abrupt role-reversal filled her with sympathy. "You were happy though. With Dad especially."

"In this universe he's moved on," Jean pointed out. From the way the words fell from her mouth and the despondent psychic residue that accompanied it, Rachel could tell that this wasn't the first time this thought had entered the younger woman's mind. She grimaced and said nothing. After a few moments something else seemed to occur to Jean. "You're from the future, right? Trying to stop what happened in your universe from happening here. Kind of like what we're doing."

"Kind of," Rachel allowed hesitantly, wondering where this was leading.

"Is it working?"

"It's hard to tell." The lie rolled off her tongue so easily it also felt like the truth. Still, she quickly changed the subject, lest the budding telepath pick up on something she wasn't supposed to. "How are you holding up?"

Jean sighed. "Not very well. There's a lot of stuff in my head now and it's hard to make sense of it all. Hearing everyone's thoughts all the time is painful. I know the boys don't like me very much anymore, and Scott is... confused. He doesn't know how to feel about what's happening here and I don't blame him. But I have to act like I've got it all together for the team, and it's hard."

"You're doing well," Rachel smiled encouragingly, though her heart wasn't really in it. Something about the whole conversation felt manufactured, inauthentic, and forced.

"Thanks. Kitty is a big help."

"I bet."

'_Rachel, where are you?' _Psylocke's voice was suddenly nudging against her mind, reminding Rachel that she had more to do today than stand in the hallways chatting awkwardly with her mother. Deftly, she allowed Betsy a quickly glimpse through her eyes as a way of explaining her tardiness – while simultaneously reminding herself that the kids would never get away with that – with a mental apology attached.

"Sorry, I was 'sposed to be meeting Betsy in the Danger Room so I have to go, but... do you want to come? We could show you a few things." Psylocke's surprise at her words matched the expression on Jean's face perfectly, and made Rachel all the more stunned at the invitation she had offered. But Xavier wasn't around to show Jean how to master her telepathy this time, and surely more telekinetic training from the only psychics in the mansion would be more helpful than harmful.

"Umm... okay," Jean smiled brightly, obviously thrilled to be included in something bigger than her own team. "I'll just... grab my uniform."

She turned away and hurried back the way she had come – again not paying much attention to her surroundings – and Rachel found herself smiling.


	3. Chapter 3 - Scott

Rachel was in the Danger Room, alone, when Scott found her.

He had entered the observation deck half way through her simulation and had watched silently as she took down her holographic adversaries with an aggressive – some might say uncontrolled – strategy based on vicious physical assault.

Of course, Rachel had sensed him the second he has entered, but had similarly chosen not to call him out on it. It wasn't the first time she had had an audience during her private sessions – in fact, she was beginning to think Logan was encouraging idle students to do just that – so she was not as bothered by it as she otherwise might have been. Though, as she tended to do when being observed by the kids, she made a subconscious effort to pare back of some of the more... unnecessary violence.

Even as she fought, she had curiously skimmed his surface thoughts to gauge his reactions, and found mild amusement about the boy band soundtrack playing over the simulation – a prank Kitty had set up for when Rachel next logged into the system, and one which she had not bothered to turn off – and meditative thoughts about the Wolverine-like approach she was taking to the scenario. Beside his purely professional judgement of her technique, however, he was in awe of her and wondering just what he could say when she was done.

When the session finished and the Danger Room congratulated her on defeating all her opponents and reported on her time and score, Rachel took a moment to catch her breath and to clamp down on the rage that usually spurred her to fight like this, and which she used to enhance her performance. Then she grabbed her towel, slung it around her neck, and trekked up the stairs to meet her young alternate universe father.

He was waiting for her in the middle of the room, standing somewhat unsurely and feeling somewhat intimidated by her performance – and by her origination.

"Good job down there," he told her, smiling encouragingly like he was one of her teammates.

Although Rachel had had plenty of time – almost an hour since he had first registered on her radar– to prepare for coming face-to-face with Cyclops, his vulnerability nevertheless caught her off guard. He had experienced none of the trauma or adversity that his current self had, yet there were scars of insecurity marring his mental state from even before he and the others had arrived in this time. He was not as sure of himself yet – that was the biggest surprise – and how his team had handled the news of the radical leader he had become had certainly done a number on his confidence.

"Thank you," Rachel replied, plastering her warmest smile on her face.

"Rachel Grey, right? I'm Scott Summers," he held out his hand to her, and she shook it firmly, suppressing a smirk at the sombre expression on his face. "I know you've already met me, but—"

"It's nice to meet you, Scott," Rachel cut him off, earning herself a grateful smile.

Now that the awkward introductions were over with, Scott retreated to familiar territory – battle plans. Rachel couldn't say she was disappointed – or shocked. This version of Scott was not yet used to the idea of family, and certainly not yet ready to confront the fact that he had a daughter older than he was. "Jean told me that your powers are the same as hers –telepathy and telekinesis. Why weren't you using them in combat?"

"Sometimes we need to practise other skills. If I was to lose my powers, like all those other mutants did on M Day, I wouldn't want to be suddenly unable to protect myself or those around me. We have to be prepared for everything, after all."

Scott nodded approvingly, and Rachel caught the fleeting impression of familiarity – although she had gotten Jean's powers, there was something exclusively him in her. The thought warmed both of them.

Then, abruptly, Rachel became aware of another train of thought – one that was not unusual, though nonetheless unpleasant. He was purposefully trying to keep his gaze from the markings on her face, trying to be polite; trying to to stare at what he thought was an obvious part of her mutant status. He should have been more concerned about where his mind was going, however. No one would ever be able to tell where he was looking.

"I don't have a physical mutation." That caused him to start, and he looked at her guilty, his lips parting to stammer out an apology. Rachel quickly elaborated, however. "I was branded for being a mutant. In my universe, I was used to hunt and kill others of our kind. I'm here to stop that from happening in this universe."

Rachel wasn't sure what caused the sudden need to explain herself, but the wave of empathy she felt emanate from Scott was more comforting than it was from anyone else. His eyebrows drew together, his lips pursing in dismay as he considered the implications of her experiences. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his tone genuine and laced with many layers of understanding.

As she typically did, the redhead shrugged nonchalantly, as if to say "it was no big deal" and brush the ugly subject aside. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." He wasn't, but Rachel let it slide. They were both better at pretending than talking, though Marvel Girl wasn't sure that sharing such a trait with her teenage father was a good thing.

They stared at each other a second longer, both slightly overcome, before simultaneously looking away. Their eyes roamed the room, falling on anything but each other. Scott wanted to ask his daughter if he had been a good father to her, if he had comforted her when she needed it and taught her how to be strong, but it wasn't in his nature to ask. And it wasn't in Rachel's to break his heart.


End file.
